


Me, and me now.

by AddictedToTea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Davy Byrnes, Dublin (City), F/M, James Joyce - Freeform, Philinda - Freeform, Philinda Hot Potato Event, Philinda Valentines, Ulysses - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9870395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddictedToTea/pseuds/AddictedToTea
Summary: "Because you should wear something in Dublin or this vacation would get really awkward."Phil fulfilling his desire to read "Ulysses" in an Irish pub, and being with the woman he loves. Melinda May.





	

The mission was standard, more of a formality than anything. No charging in guns blazing, no exhilarating strenuous fights, not even a little skirmish to stir things up a little. After all the diplomatic terms were fulfilled, followed by dull meetings after meetings with important senators, press conferences and all the PR drama, they headed, three days earlier than planned, back to the base. Phil sat in the cargo bay of Zephyr One, writing his report as May walked over to him and dropped a black duffel bag in front of his feet.

"What's that?"

"A few items you will need. Some clothes, food, the usual."

"And why do I need them?"

"Because you should wear something in Dublin or this vacation would get really awkward."

Phil's head snapped up and looked right into Melinda's eyes, the left side of her mouth quirked up and a second bag hanging from her shoulders. She was serious about this. He hadn't had a vacation in around 15 years and now she was just standing there like it was nothing at all.

He frowned, “I mean not that I'm complaining, but where is this coming from? I mean, why Dublin?" He asked quizzically, distinctly remembering telling her LMD that it was a dream of his to someday go there, but after he found the real May, he hadn’t mentioned it.

At this, the familiar mischievous glint in her eye that he’d remembered from her days of pranking the other agents-in-training returned in full force.

“And two copies of Ulysses.”

Smirking at his astonished appearance, she explained.

"I was curious if my replica really acted like myself, so Fitz gave me the conversation log entries he found at Radcliffe's, and I read what you said in the library." At this Phil shifted slightly in his seat, diverting his eyes to focus on a point on the floor. Melinda reached out and rested her hand on his forearm, trying to comfort him and show that she doesn’t care.

"Hey, don't do that, just forget it okay? Forget her, you have me now and I wanna try this."

Phil looked back up, blue eyes meeting brown, and nodded slightly, still uncomfortable because of what happened, what he done. The overwhelming guilt once more crashing back onto his shoulders, along with the reappearance of the knowledge that he couldn’t differentiate between a robotic version and her was unsettling and weighed heavily on his mind.

But she couldn't go further, as the co-pilot interrupted them.

"Changing course to Dublin, wheels down in 20."

May and Coulson were sat off at a quiet little airport at the border of Dublin, near the coast of Portmarnock. They put their bags into Lola, the old fashioned corvette Coulson insisted on bringing.  
That was what had fascinated him always the most about Ireland: modern, edgy architectural masterpieces lining the river, yet somehow managing to retain its cultural flair.

Melinda suggested to not directly drive to Dublin, since it was early morning. So they drove along the coastline down to Dalkey, but he couldn’t really admire the coastline and the calm tranquility of Dublin in the early morning, as he was sidetracked by the woman beside him. Just the sight of the wind catching her hair, a content peaceful smile on her face. Mesmerizing him, stealing his breath with every second.

She caught him watching her every now and leaned her head against his shoulders. Talking about nothing in particular, chuckled at random thoughts, it didn't matter what they said, just hearing each other's voices was a relief.

At some point Melinda laid her hand on his own, which was holding the control column, gently threading her small fingers through his, caressing the scarred skin there, without breaking their conversation.

For others it would have been just an ordinary touch, something you could do everyday. But for Phil and Melinda it meant everything. They didn't needed to hide anymore, on this trip they wouldn't be Agent May and Agent Coulson, no, they could be just Melinda and Phil.

The sun began to rise they arrived at the outskirts of Dublin. The city was definitely a sight to remember, even moreso with the glimmering gold of the morning sun rising from the end of the river. The cobblestone-lined streets complimented the burnt brick colour of most of the houses along it. Delicate arching bridges crisscrossed over the water, looking small next to the towering buildings. The buildings themselves were an eclectic mix of modern and an older, more contemporary style that spoke to Dublin’s rich past.  
It wasn’t June 16th, but still close enough to Bloomsday for the atmosphere to still be captivating.

The cursive “Davy Byrne's” sign hung proudly over the newly repainted celadon doorway. The light tinkling of wind chimes welcomed them into the surprisingly busy pub, a stark contrast to the peaceful quietude that is Dublin in July.  
They took a seat at the side of the bar, ensuring that they had eyes on the exit, ordering a glass of Burgundy wine each, in accordance to the book. “Ulysses” where it belonged.The crisp navy blue cover seemingly fitting well into the rustic styled bar.  
Phil cracked open the book slowly, savoring every detail. Now that he was finally doing this, he wanted to do it right.

_“Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed.”_

Phil grinned at the opening line, barely able to contain his happiness at fulfilling a lifelong dream of his: Ulysses was open in front of him, and keeping him company was － "Enjoying it so far?" Melinda May asked, plunking a glass of Burgundy wine in front of him.  
"The book or the company?" He asked, having tried his best to sound charming. His heart swelled as Melinda gave him her classic "You're such a dork" smirk. Phil was suddenly aware of how silly and out of place he must look.  
Phil knew he had only one play. "You know, I only play the dork because I know you're a sucker for corny lines and a charming smile. Remember, we at Communications practically invented 'game'." Melinda dramatically rolled her eyes "Oh, really?" She asked, sarcastically. He painfully realizes that any attempt at flirting with her would yield the same reaction. If there's one person in the world that knows Phil Coulson has no game － its Melinda May

"Phil, you have absolutely no game," Melinda remarked with a teasing smile, unknowingly confirming his suspicions "but it's cute that you tried."  
He took in the sight that was Melinda May in her black jeans jacket, effortless waves in her rich chocolate-coloured hair, more relaxed and laid back than he had seen her these past few weeks.

He had always been amazed at how open she was when she chose to show it. It seems as if the flawless compartmentalization of all emotion, hidden behind a blank mask everyday, that had now melted away to reveal the true woman underneath. The flawed, vulnerable, damaged person that made up Melinda May. And he loved her all the more for it.

_“her indeterminate response to inaffirmative interrogation: her potency over effluent and refluent waters: her power to enamour, to mortify, to invest with beauty, to render insane, to incite to and aid delinquency: the tranquil inscrutability of her visage: the terribility of her isolated dominant resplendent propinquity: her omens of tempest and of calm: the stimulation of her light, her motion and her presence: the admonition of her craters, her arid seas, her silence: her splendour, when visible: her attraction, when invisible. ”_

Again she caught him staring at her, like she had in the car. But he just couldn't help himself sometimes, so he just smiled brightly, getting rewarded with a similar necking smile.  
Melinda looked around the pub, which was slowly getting filled up with people, before looking back at Phil. He obviously was enjoying Dublin. Phil just was this kind of guy who could absorb the soul of something and just live it. Ireland was so pure and natural, just like Phil himself. She knew he liked just to sit here, drink something with her and solely chatting with, but she wanted to be alone with him.

“Do you mind, if we go out of here? I know, we have a few days here, but I would really like to explore to the city a bit before it is getting dark.”

“Of course not, a walk around seems nice and we’ll blend in with the other tourists.”

They decided to take Lola and drive in the direction of Dublin bay. On their way they stopped several times, looked for places they wanted to explore further in the next few days.  
There was a little cute Tea and Coffee Shop in the City Center, even near a comic-bookstore, which was very inviting for Coulson.

In the end Phil suggested to take a walk at the beach promenade, enjoying the afternoon sun at the Dublin Bay. He parked the car and closed his jacket securely, it was fresh and windy at the coast. He saw Melinda doing the same, before joining him by his side, following a small trail along the cliffs.

It was a rare, beautiful sight they got presented in this moment. Green hills around them, no buildings, just the Dublin Bay before them. The sea was strong and so the waves surged wildly, colliding high against the cliffs. A swooshing sound, some seagulls, nothing more to hear.

“This is heavenly.”

“Yeah, incredibly.”

Phil closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with breezy sea air, calming himself to the bones and savor the warm sun on his face, as he felt something warm brushing his right hand.  
Slowly he opened his eyes and glanced downwards, where May had entwined their fingers, looking questioning towards him.

He then gently squeezed her hand without breaking their eye contact, tugging her in his embrace. He knew that she was more than capable to take down men twice her size, but in moments like this, she was nothing more than a relaxed kitten curling into his side.

“You're sure, you want this... with me?” he asked her, almost whispering, his voice trembling with fear. Yes, he was afraid, not only of losing her, as his friend or partner, but to disappoint her. She needed someone better, he knew that, someone who could heal her broken half, not someone who would add his own broken self and increase the pain, the nightmares.

Melinda stroked his hand with her thumb, obviously seeing him struggle with himself.

“Yes, I want this. I want you.” She grabbed his other hand, his fake hand, which now reminded him every day again on what he didn´t realized, that he couldn't tell what was real or not. “I want all of you. I know you’re still feeling guilty over not realising that the other May was fake, or that you. But that's bullshit Coulson, so stop torturing yourself over what happened.”

Phil wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words, so he was letting her talk, rather than rambling over how he should had known or that he should distinguish her from a freaking LMD, but they had done this before, multiple times and it was always ending with her being annoyed over his stubborn self.

“Yeah, it´s right, you kissed her, you were chatting it up with her, but that doesn't makes me angry at you or the LMD for that matter. I am angry at both of us, to let 30 years of flirting, bad excuses, nearly dying and actual dying pass us by without even thinking about taking a shot at this, at us.

“Why didn't you say so earlier, like the first few times I rambled on like an idiot ...”.

Melinda tugged him closer to her, she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body, a smile spreading on her face.

“Because I wanted to be alone with you. Not only in one of our bunks, where we could easily called for another emergency or someone interrupting us. But here”, she gave a small nod to their surrounding, before returning her gaze to his magnificent blue eyes, “here it's just you and me. No Agents, no duty, just Melinda and Phil. Because that is what I want and what I am offering you. Like Joyce said, Me, and me now. No worry about tomorrow, no guilt about the past. I just can't live another day with the knowledge that you like me and not being able to-”

“I love you.”

She gasped, standing there, a little confused at first.

“W-what?...” she asked, hoping to hear those words again.

“I don´t just like you, you don´t mean something or a lot to me. I am in love with you, you mean everything to me, all I do is build on the hope that I could actually have a future that would be including you in my life.”

She was speechless, she expected him to admit his feelings towards her, but not this. It was so intimately, he laid his soul open to her, which he had never done before in his life.  
Even though Melinda felt the strong urge to let the tears roll down her face over her relief, she wanted to tell him exactly that he meant the same to her, but she just couldn´t find the right words. So she took a deep breath, gathering herself together to close the small distance between them and sealed her lips passionately with his, bringing all her emotions, her love and desire for him in the movement of their lips. Her hand found themselves clinging to his neck, pulling him down towards her. His hands however were stroking her back and running through the loose strands of her hair.

As they pulled apart only for the need of air, she closed her eyes for a brief second, savoring their shared moment.

“I love you so much.” She gave him a short but sweet kiss on his lips, smiling brightly.  
“I love you, and I will always be yours, as you´ll be mine.”

“I promise.” He smiled back down at her, feeling such an easement on himself, so happy, he could not describe it. So instead of talking to much he simply kissed her again, softly, languidly, pouring all his emotion and devotion into the kiss.

And as the sun was slowly setting on the horizon before them, the two silhouettes were still standing there, holding each other.

For this moment, they weren't Agent May and Agent Coulson, who waited thirty years for a drink with the other one. Thy were the ones who were meant to be, who'd finally came together as one. Melinda May and Phil Coulson.

Me. And me now.


End file.
